What Keeps Us Awake
by domina tempore
Summary: The horrors that keep the Spencer men awake at night...a story about father and son.


**What Keeps Us Awake**

_by: apple jacks jules_

_Note: I don't quite know where this came from. I love Shawn and Henry's relationship on the show, rough as it is sometimes, and I really love writing Henry. But I have no idea why the lines that this was built around forced themselves into my head...I hope you like it, though. _

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Henry Spencer was just settling down for the night when he heard a knock at his door. Frowning, wondering who in the world would possibly be stupid enough to knock on his door any time after 11:30, he dragged himself over and prepared to be angry if it was Shawn asking about a case. But he didn't think that was it; as far as he knew, Shawn didn't have a case at the moment...

To his surprise, it _was_ Shawn who was at the door. He was dressed in a rumpled t-shirt and jeans, but looked wide awake and alert, and serious. But the serious expression was replaced almost immediately by a goofy fake grin, and he wondered if he had imagined it.

"Hi, Dad. Did I wake you up?"

"Uh, no." Henry rubbed his forehead. "Shawn, what's going on?" His son shrugged innocently.

"Nothing. I just decided that I wanted to come and see my dad. What is wrong with that? Is there a problem with being a good son?"

"Good son my...Shawn, what's wrong? You never come over here just to see me. You come over to ask for money or free food or advice on one of your half-baked cases. It's never just a visit; there's always a motive. So what's your case?" Shawn sighed, and his eyes shifted away.

"Dad, this isn't about a case."

"Then what's it about, kid?"

"Look, Dad, can we not talk about this right now?" Henry shook his head.

"Nope, not gonna work this time. You know I can always tell when you're lying, Shawn, I can see it in your face. So spill. What's this visit really about?"

"Dad---"

"Shawn, what are you doing here?" Henry raised an eyebrow, and Shawn kept his eyes averted. But his father could practically see the gears working in his head as he weighted the choices. He was just as likely to lie and walk away as to tell him the truth. But finally he sighed, and Henry knew it would be the truth.

"I'm here because I've got no place else to go," he said softly.

Henry felt his mouth open and close several times, but for once words failed him. Finally, he stepped back from the door and motioned Shawn in.

"Go in and sit down, kid. I'll get a couple of beers."

"No, I'm good." But he did as he was told, and Henry got them both drinks. When went into the living room Shawn was sitting on the edge of the couch, toying with a coaster. He handed him a drink. Shawn took it without question, but only to play with it instead of the coaster.

Taking a deep breath, Henry settled onto the other end of the couch, and took a sip of his own beer. When he'd swallowed, he looked at Shawn again.

"You wanna tell me what this is all about, kid?"

"Not really."

"Shawn."

"I...Dad, how many murders have you seen?" Henry blinked; that was not what he had been expecting.

"Well, I don't know...that was a long time ago. But quite a few, I guess. Why?"

"Do you still remember them?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"If you think about them, can you still see them? The bodies, the blood...you're the one who taught me to remember stuff. Do you?"

"I try not to."

"But do you?" Shawn persisted, looking more serious than Henry had seen him in a long time. It was convincing enough that he decided to be honest.

"Yeah, sometimes. Have you been remembering things?"

"Not just things, Dad, _everything_! Every time I close my eyes, I see the bodies..." he put his beer on the table and dropped his head into his hands. "I can't sleep. I was gonna go break into Gus's house, but it's no fun to do that when he's gone. And I kind of...well, his phone got dropped right before he left for a conference this weekend, so I can't even get ahold of him to ask him to come back...and I can't go to the chief, or Jules, or Lassie---gosh! Not Lassie---because they would ask why a psychic can't deal with his own visions...and you're the only one who understands. Dad, how do I stop it?" Surprised by his son's confession, Henry wasn't quite sure what to say. But it was clear that he couldn't just leave him hanging after that. He rubbed his forehead, and his beer joined Shawn's on the table.

"Alright, you want to know the truth, Shawn?" Shawn nodded. "It doesn't stop. When you're a cop, or a detective, or whatever, you're gonna see a lot of things. And your photographic memory makes it harder. If you keep up this psychic bit, you're going to keep seeing things that are going to haunt you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that this was "make Shawn feel as bad and freaked out as he can" week. I would have brought a cake to the party."

"_But_," Henry stressed, "it gets easier to block out with practice. Do you want to know what I used to do when I started remembering things that I'd seen? I used to close my eyes, and draw your mother's face, and your face in my mind. I would picture the two of you, and try to get every detail just _perfect_...and if I concentrated hard enough on that, the other images went away."

"You used to think of us..."

"Shawn, the two of you were and are the most important things in my life. Look, whenever these things really start to get to you, get them out of your mind. Replace them with whatever means the most to you." He leaned back. "It's not a perfect system, but it keeps you sane."

"Whatever matters most..." Shawn repeated thoughtfully.

"Yeah, whatever matters most." Henry stood up and patted Shawn's shoulder awkwardly, a sad smile on his lips. "Stay as long as you need, kid. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Shawn mumbled. Sighing, Henry turned to go up the stairs, thinking over what his son had said.

Most people thought that his "gift" was just that; a gift. And because of Shawn's carefree personality, no one was able to see how hard it actually was on him. He wondered how much longer he was going to be able to keep the charade up before he finally broke under the strain.

He hoped Shawn would never be put in a position where it had to happen.

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_Fin._

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_Note: Thank you for reading!! :D_


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